"I think they are. When's the last time Jimmy has complained about
Sally kicking him?"
"I..." Pearl hesitated. "Sally hasn't been kicking him. So why should
he complain?"
"Why hasn't Sally been kicking him?"
"Joe, what on earth's the matter with you? Do you _want_ Sally to kick
him?"
"Of course not. But the point is, she hasn't."
"Not much of a point," said Pearl. "I think it's natural she should
outgrow it."
"Have you been listening to the news reports?" asked Joe.
"Certainly. I have the television on at noon every day. Richard Z.
Hardlett gives the complete news every day."
"Okay, what's been happening?"
"Not much of anything. Just things like the National Association
of Church Socials is holding a big social in Washington, and the
President's going to attend...."
"Kind of exciting, eh?"
"Not very."
"No murders, no robberies, no sex crimes, no Jack-the-Rippers, no
embezzlings, no politicians stirring up trouble in Syria so they can
raise the price of American gasoline?"
"What are you driving at?"
"I'm driving at another point," said Joe. "The second point is that the
world's kind of peaceful all of a sudden--some change!"
* * * * *
Pearl looked at him, then her eyes lit up. "Of course!" she exclaimed.
"Of course what?"
"It's the Devil. He's chained up in our basement, and he can't go
around stirring up trouble! _That's_ why there isn't any crime going
on! Crime has taken a holiday while the Devil is chained up. Oh, Joe,
isn't it wonderful!"
"Yes," said Joe. "It's wonderful. If it gets much more wonderful, I
don't see how we're going to pay our bills."
"Pay our bills?"
"Yes. I haven't made a dime in two weeks! Not one single client has
come into my office since the night we chained old Beelzebub to the
basement wall."
* * * * *
Pearl looked thoughtful. "Do you really think that he can't do any
mischief while he's chained up? It doesn't seem to me that he's always
been present at the scene of every crime. How could he be? Why, he'd
have to be in a million places at once."
Joe shrugged. "I used to think that he did it all with a sort of
world-wide influence. Something like a powerful mental wave that
suggested all sorts of evil things to susceptible people--which is
almost everybody."
"Or maybe he has his imps to carry out his orders--and they can't get
to him now to get their usual briefing."
"Seen any imps around the house?" asked Joe.
She shook her head. "No. And even at night, when you have been at the
office, I've not felt alarmed at the possibility of a prowler. I've
had a sort of confidence that there wouldn't be any. I do believe it's
true--the Devil is completely helpless to spread his evil influence
outside our basement."
"I guess you're right," admitted Joe. "I've felt the same thing--that
feeling of there being nothing to worry about. I even trust the other
guy when he's coming up behind me on the road, not to try to pass on a
hill or a curve. He doesn't even blow his horn when you miss the red
light changing to green. Everything's sweetness and light."
"Well," said Pearl, "there's only one answer that I can see."
"What's that?"
"You'll just have to get another job. If you're not to get any more
clients, you might as well quit being a private detective and look for
something else to do."
"I'll _have_ to," said Joe. "Our bank account won't last that long if
we have to tap it each month for all our living expenses, that's sure!
And we've got to keep up our payments on the mortgage, or we'll lose
the house."
"We can't let that happen!" exclaimed Pearl. "If anybody ever goes down
in that basement, the Devil will be loose again, and he'll be awful
mad. The world would take a real beating...."
"I rather suspect he'd go hog-wild for a time," Joe agreed. "And he'd
probably want to take it all out on us. Revenge would be his first
thought."
"Then you've _got_ to get another job. Right away. We don't want to
miss a single payment!"
"Nor any meals," said Joe. "Which reminds me, I wonder if the Devil
ever gets hungry?"
"I never thought of it," confessed Pearl, a slight expression of
contrition crossing her features. "The idea of the Devil eating is just
something that I've never considered, nor knew anybody who did consider
it."
"I don't believe he eats," said Joe. "Why should he need food? He's
immortal."
"I'd hate to think of him starving down there," said Pearl hesitantly.
"Don't you even begin to think he might!" said Joe in sudden alarm.
"He doesn't eat, that's all there is to it. Even if he did, it would
be just for pleasure--and it won't hurt him to go without. Besides,
it would be the best thing that ever happened on this old world if he
_did_ starve to death."
"Don't worry," said Pearl. "I couldn't go down in that basement for
love or money!"
Joe looked at her sharply. "You'd better not--for either of them!" he
said. "I'll do the loving around here, and I'll make the money!"
* * * * *
The sound of running feet interrupted him, and he turned to the door
to see Jimmy and Sally coming in from their play. Their faces were
flushed, shining with exertion and health.
"Daddy," said Sally. "Will you read us a fairy-story before supper?"
Joe lifted her in his arms and held her high with a grin. "Sure thing,
little girl," he said. "Come on into the parlor, Jimmy, and we'll
rattle one off."
"I'll get the book," said Jimmy, racing for the bookcase.
Joe seated himself on the easy chair and plumped Sally down beside him.
He took the book from Jimmy and made room for the boy opposite Sally.
He opened the book and read the title.
"Pandora's Box," he said. "The story of the little girl whose curiosity
loosed all the troubles upon the wor...." He stopped suddenly and
looked toward the kitchen where Pearl was rattling dishes preparing the
supper.
"What's the matter, Daddy?" asked Jimmy. "Why don't you read the story?"
Joe looked down at him. "I will," he said. "But I hope you realize this
is only a fairy-tale, and didn't really happen?"
"The man on the television said it did," protested Jimmy.
"On the television?"
"Yes. He said it was almost like somebody had closed Pandora's box, the
way things were going in the world these days. And how could anybody
close the box if it wasn't real?"
"Is that why you got me this book to read?" asked Joe.
"Sure. Now read it, Daddy. I want to know about Pandora's box, and how
she opened it, and what happened."
"It shouldn't happen to a dog," said Joe, "then--or now." He glanced
once more toward the kitchen. Then he began to read, but as he read, a
gnawing worry began to creep through his mind.
There was a Devil downstairs, and once before a woman had loosed him.
The next evening Pearl greeted him at the door with excitement. "Did
you hear the news?" she asked.
Joe looked alarmed. "He hasn't escaped?" he demanded.
"The Devil? No. Not a sound out of him. It's got everybody excited. The
newscasters have been giving it a big coverage."
"What's got everybody excited, and who's covering who?"
"The disarmament agreement! The United States and Russia have agreed to
scrap all armaments, disarm all the atom bombs, stop making them, and
put in a foolproof system of inspection that will make it impossible
for anybody in the world to make another atom bomb, or a missile, or
even a bomber. Isn't it wonderful!"
"Sure is," agreed Joe. "But maybe it's just another Russian agreement.
When the chips are down, they'll probably claim they never said any
such thing."
"No! They've submitted plans and maps of all their atomic
installations, their stockpiles, plans and details of their
intercontinental ballistics missile, everything. The United States is
going to do the same thing...."
Joe looked incredulous. "You mean the Russians _voluntarily_ instituted
this whole thing, and actually delivered the information...?"
"Yes. A team of scientists, diplomats and military men selected by
the U. N. flew in, and the Russians showed them everything. Russian
scientists, statesmen and military men are already on their way here to
inspect our installations."
"It looks like, with the Devil tied up downstairs, this old world is
headed for peace at last," said Joe.
"I'm so happy!" exclaimed Pearl. She looked at Joe closely. "Aren't
you?"